FCYU-Feature Story

Shut Out
I want to reconnect with my sister, but she doesn’t

By Anonymous

(Names have been changed.)

Last year I saw my older sister for the first time in 10 years. We had split apart from each other back in the winter of 1997, when I was removed from my mother’s care for the last time, due to neglect and abuse. My sister was allowed to remain with my mother, while I went from one foster home or group home to another. I thought it was not fair.

I tried to keep in touch after I left, but every time I came to the house my sister would come to the door without opening it and say, “Your mom is not here,” rather than saying, “Mom is not here.” I just kept being in denial, telling myself that maybe next time she would open the door and welcome me in. But deep down inside I was hurt and angry that she could do such a thing. Didn’t she know that we were sisters and that we shared the same mother?

My sister and I used to be very tight. We used to study together and exercise together. There were also times when we cooked and shopped on holidays together. But when we were put in the same foster home together, when I was around 7 and she was 10, things changed.

Not Like a Sister

It was bad enough that my big sister had to look after me when my mother would go on her drinking binges. Now she had to look after me in the foster care home as well. Without my mother around to lay down the rules, I felt like I could run the streets and do as I pleased. I think my sister resented having to take care of me, and maybe that was why we stopped being close. But all I ever wanted was for us to be sisters. I never asked her to be another mom to me.

Whatever the reason, in that foster home my sister started acting differently toward me and talking to me as if I wasn’t her sister. She would refer to our mother as “my mother.” Like we had different mothers. Instead of calling me “Sister,” like she used to, she started addressing me by name and nothing more. I was upset about it, but I didn’t know how to talk to her about it or fix things. Instead, I made excuses for the way she was treating me.

When I was 8 we returned home to our mother, and my sister started experimenting on me sexually. At the time, I didn’t know that what she was doing to me was wrong. I just thought we were playing house.

Not long after I went into foster care that last time, my sister fell out of touch with me. The way it happened is a blur to me. For a couple years I kept going back to the house to see her and my mom, but most of the time my sister wouldn’t let me in. And when she did, she and my mother were always going at it. I stopped going over there because I didn’t want to put up with them fighting.

Confusion and Anger

I tried to keep in touch in other ways, like sending greeting cards on holidays, hoping that she would drop one to me in return. But the holidays just went on by and I didn’t receive anything back in the mail from her.

I was confused. One minute I didn’t want anything to do with her either, and I tried to go on as if she didn’t exist. But then I would start to tear up at the thought of her being more like a stranger than a sister. At some point, my feelings about her just faded. I had a numb spot in my heart when it came to my sister. The thoughts would come and go often, but I felt nothing.

When I was 12, I started to go to a treatment program for children with broken families. In a dance movement session, I was able to open up a little of the anger I felt underneath. But I usually tried to hold myself back from feeling angry at my sister. Instead, I started taking it out on myself.

I tried to figure out what I could have done to cause her to no longer want to be my sister. I would think, “What happened to her? Why doesn’t she want a relationship with me? What did I do wrong?”

I Wanted My Family

In 2006, I started reconnecting with my parents. Being moved around from foster homes to a residential treatment center and eventually to a group home, I had been thinking a lot about my past and trying to remember happy memories.

I realized that I would not be completely happy unless I had my whole family: my mother, father and sister. I was willing to forgive them for hurting me in the past, in order to have them in my life again. I don’t know much of my family and I did not want to lose the little I had.

I started writing letters to my mom and dad, and it went well. They sent me encouraging letters back. Reconnecting with them made me feel like a part of the hurt I endured in the past was now filled with happiness. I wanted the same thing with my sister.

I also wanted to reconnect so that some day I could build up enough courage to confront my sister about sexually abusing me. I hoped that she would have some insight on why she did it and give me some kind of an apology.

One More Try

The problem was, I didn’t know where to find her. Then someone told me that she was still living in our mom’s old apartment.

Once I knew where she was, I did a lot to try to reconnect with my sister. I had my old caseworker come with me to the house to slip a note under the door. I also wrote personal letters and dropped them in the mail. In the letters I wrote that I forgave her for all the wrong she did to me, that I hoped she could forgive me for whatever I’ve done to hurt her and that I would like for us to be sisters again.

It hurt me when she did not reply, but just like when she’d hurt me in the past, I denied that I was hurt. I would keep saying to myself that maybe this or maybe that happened and she would reply soon, but she never did.

In 2007, I had a baby girl. After my baby was born, I thought I’d give it one more try, and went up there to see her. I figured if she did not want anything to do with me, at least she could be in my baby’s life.

Flashbacks

So one rainy afternoon my boyfriend James and I took our baby to 138th Street in the Bronx. When I got out of the train station I started to feel as if all the fluids in my stomach were draining. As I got closer to the building I worried I was going to faint. I tried to hold myself together by slowing my breathing, but when I got inside the building I fell into pieces and started having flashbacks about the abuse I’d suffered.

I started having doubts about reconnecting with my sister again, so I yelled at James to help ease the traffic of memories in my head. It was wrong to take out my anger on him, but I needed to release it one way or another, and I felt safe releasing it on James because I know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me in return.

When I finally got to the door, I noticed I knocked as if I was still a child. When I was a child I would knock on the door in codes to a tune and my sister would know it was me. I knocked for a while and her boyfriend finally came to the door. I told him that I was her younger sister and I would like to see her. He said she was working, so I turned away with a disappointed look.

He must have read my body language because he blurted out, “She returns from work in an hour.” He told me to come back then. I went to the park nearby to wait.

While we waited, I talked with James about my past connection with my sister. I explained how I believe she hadn’t tried to reach me while I was in foster care was because she was happy to not have the responsibility of being my caretaker. I was feeling a little blue after the conversation, but I brushed it off and headed back to see if my sister had returned from work.

Outside the Door

I remember telling James that I was giving up if she did not show her face this time. But to my surprise, my sister answered the door.

She looked different. She had lost a lot of weight and was a little taller. When she saw me I could tell she knew who I was. Her reaction was impassive, but her face looked as if she’d seen a ghost. I did not say anything at first and neither did she, for what seemed like 10 minutes. I was so nervous that I could not speak.

Finally James said, “Say something,” and gave me a slight push at the shoulder. I still was frozen. Then he just blurted out, “Do you want to hold the baby?” and my sister said, “Oh, sure.” She held the baby for a quick minute before giving her back to me and that’s when I started talking. I told her how much the baby weighed and I suggested that my sister come by to the house so she and the baby could get used to each other. She replied, “Yeah.”

The whole time we were talking I stood outside the door and I did not think to ask to come inside. It was too intense for me to step foot in that home. I was managing my flashbacks well and I knew if I entered the home I would not have been able to manage and I would have lost it.

It felt strange to me, meeting with my sister. After all, I had not seen her in over 10 years and I wanted to catch up on lost time. I was curious about how she’d held up mentally, not having the chance to escape, as I did, from our mother’s abuse.

But I could not work up enough courage to ask her those questions. The meeting only lasted a half hour and most of it was complete silence. The only thing we talked about was me having a baby. She said she’d always figured she would have a baby before me.

I Can’t Force Her

She seemed shaky and uncomfortable, so I just gave her my phone number and address. I told her that she was welcome to call or drop by to visit anytime.

As I was heading home I felt lifted and full of air. I actually felt tens of pounds lighter. I was happy the meeting was over and I do not think I ever want to feel under pressure like that again. But I still wanted to see her again. I was hoping that she would contact me and that the next time, things would be easier.

I guess my sister did not care too much about reconnecting with me because she has not called me or come by to visit. It hurts me deeply to know that my sister would rather be a stranger than a sister to me. I am also angry that she could just forget about me and move on. It’s sad we can’t even sit in the same room and hold a conversation.

I had thoughts about going back to see her, but I don’t want her to think that I am desperate to reconnect. If she really wanted to reconnect with me, she would have responded to my letters and I would not have had to go on a wild goose chase to get in contact with her.

After seeing her that day, I came to the decision that maybe we are better off remaining apart. For now, I’m going to try leaving my sister alone, even though it hurts me to do that. I can’t force her to be my sister if she doesn’t want to be. But the thought of working out our differences and being sisters again will always be in my mind.

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